love me for who i am
by MissingMommy
Summary: Cinna's life didn't exactly live up to the stories that he was told as a child. :: Red string!AU, Cinna-centric, Cinna&Haymitch, Haymitch/Chaff, Finnick/Annie, Cinna/Mitchell, For Laura.


For my lovely Laura. This is super late, but happy belated birthday! I really hope that you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing. ily.

Notes: Haymitch is about 3 years older than Cinna. Haymitch moved in next door when Cinna was seven. Finnick is one year older. Annie was abused as a child, which is why she's so shy.

.

A woman, no more than thirty-five, stands and moves to turn off the lamp on the side table.

"Mama," the five year old says, stopping her, "one more story!"

She turns back to him and retakes her seat next to the boy. She smiles at him softly. "Alright, Cinna. But only one more, and then it really is bed time." When the boy nods his head enthusiastically, she questions, "What would you like to hear?"

"How you and Papa fell in love!" he exclaims.

"You've heard that story a hundred times," she counters. "What about a different one?"

He gives her a puppy dog look. "Please, Mama."

Her face softens. "Oh, alright," she agrees. Cinna beams at her. "Well, I was about fifteen when I first noticed my string. Of course, I was confused and I went to my own mother. She held me close and told me about how that string was going to lead me to my one true love."

"To Papa?"

She smiles at her son. It doesn't matter how many times she tells the story, Cinna always asked questions. "To your Papa, yes," she confirms. "I didn't believe her at first. It wasn't until I was eighteen that I did."

"That's when you first saw Papa, right?"

"Yes," she replies. She brushes the hair from Cinna's face before continuing. "I was studying to be a nurse; your father had been working the night shift as a police officer. It was late when I finally decided to go home. During the walk, I have noticed that my string was different, glowing."

Cinna grins. "And you knew?"

She nods. "I knew then that I was going to meet him. My string was leading me directly to my soul mate. All I did was follow it. The rest," she whispers, leaning to press her lips to Cinna's forehead, "was fate."

She stands again, pulling the covers over Cinna's body. "Good night, Cinna."

"Good night, Mama," he replies, sleep evident in his voice.

She turns off the side lamp and quietly shuts the door behind her.

.

Fourteen year old Cinna has his feet propped up on the coffee table, while Haymitch is gathering the drinks from the kitchen. When Haymitch reenters the living room, he takes a seat next to Cinna and offers him a Coke.

"What does this even mean?" Haymitch questions. He examines his left hand again. "Where did it even come from?"

"My mother used to tell me stories about it all the time," Cinna replies. "It's supposed to lead you to your _soul mate_."

Haymitch laughs bitterly. "My soul mate? That's a good one. Pull my other leg, it plays jingle bells."

Cinna narrows his green eyes. "I'm serious, Haymitch. Everyone is supposed to have this string that leads them to their soul mate."

Turning to face Cinna, Haymitch raises an eyebrow. "Well, where's yours then?"

Cinna lowers his gaze, blushing slightly. "I haven't gotten mine yet," he admits. Before Haymitch can question him, Cinna continues, "It's different for everyone. They get it at different times. My mother got hers at 15; my father at 17."

The doorbell rings, and Haymitch is all but thrilled to get it. Haymitch returns with Finnick, a bright eyed boy a year older than Cinna, and Chaff, a dark skinned boy Haymitch's age with a fierce attitude. Cinna frowns slightly, because he's never liked Chaff's inability to keep himself and Haymitch out of fights.

Retaking his seat, Haymitch turns on the television. And the conversation about his red string is over.

.

The doorbell rings several times, drawing Cinna out of sleep. He drags his hand across his face and pushes the covers off him. Making his way down the stairs, he swings the door open.

Haymitch pushes past him. "Come right in," Cinna remarks sarcastically, closing the door behind his friend. Sometimes, he's not even sure why he's friends with him.

Holding his left hand up as if Cinna could see the string, Haymitch snapped, "It's glowing! Why is it glowing?"

"It's glowing," Cinna repeats. "And you came here."

Glaring, Haymitch lowers his hand. "Well, I didn't know _why_ it would be glowing. Is that even normal?"

Crossing his arms, Cinna notes, "Your parents _really_ didn't explain this red string stuff to you, did they?" When Haymitch fixes him with another glare, Cinna starts to explain. "It means that you're ready for a relationship. That you both are," he corrects himself.

"I'm not ready," Haymitch protests frantically.

Cinna raises his eyebrow. "Your glowing red string says otherwise." He pauses for a moment. "Look, just follow your string. You might as well know who the person at the other end of the string is, right?"

It takes several moments but Haymitch eventually nods. He turns and exits the house without another word.

Closing the door Haymitch left open, Cinna leans against it and sighs. He lifts his left hand. A red string still hasn't appeared around his finger. Normally, he can keep himself from thinking about it, but he's seventeen years old and his string still hasn't appeared.

What if he never gets one?

That thought scares him more than anything.

.

"How did you not know?" Cinna inquires, eyebrow raised.

Haymitch shrugs. "I told you that my string led to Chaff and you're more worried about how I didn't know? You're supposed to be the expert on this stuff; not me." He gives Cinna a questioning look. "Well?"

Cinna shook his head. "I don't know either. I thought that it would be someone you didn't really know." He flings himself down on the couch next to Haymitch. "Are you absolutely sure that it was Chaff?"

"Yes," he replies impatiently. "I followed it. There was nowhere else my string could've gone."

"What happened with…what's her name?" Cinna asks, curious as to Haymitch's latest fling.

Haymitch shrugs again. "Her parents forbid me from seeing her. And she was too good to go against them. So that ended weeks ago." He looks toward Cinna, meeting his eyes for the first time since Cinna came over. "So it's really Chaff."

Cinna furrows his eyebrows. "I guess. If that's where your string led, then it's him."

Taking a swig from his Coke, Haymitch turns his attention back toward the television. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"Your string. You don't talk about it," Haymitch notes. "So I'm curious. Have you found where it leads?" He glances over at Cinna.

Cinna lowers his head, purposefully avoiding Haymitch's eyes. He considers lying, but decides against it. And he considers brushing the question off. Haymitch, though, is his best friend, despite everything. "I still haven't gotten mine," he admits.

"Seriously?" Haymitch raises his eyebrow.

"I don't want to talk about it," Cinna replies. "Please," he asks, meeting Haymitch's stare.

For once, Haymitch nods and the conversation is dropped.

.

"Have you met Annie?" Finnick asks.

Cinna glances up from his homework to see Finnick holding hands with a brown haired girl. Finnick is grinning widely and continuously stealing glances at Annie.

"Hello," Cinna greets, holding out his hand to her.

His hand stays in the air for several moments before it becomes evident that Annie isn't going to shake it. Cinna drops his hand, frowning slightly.

In a low voice, Finnick says, "Sorry, she's really shy."

Sensing that there's something else wrong that neither Finnick nor Annie wants to talk about, Cinna doesn't press. "How'd you meet?" he inquires instead.

Finnick pulls the chair out for Annie before taking a seat himself. "Well," he says, launching into his story. "I was sitting in my lifeguard chair, watching over the pool. It was quiet, but something felt off and I couldn't place it. As I was reaching down to grab a drink, I noticed that the string on my hand was glowing."

Finnick looks over at Annie, grinning like a fool, before looking back at Cinna. "When I followed it, I found Annie, swimming in the deep end of the pool. She looked magical."

Cinna smiles at his friend. "I'm glad that you found each other," he says.

Taking Annie's hand in his own, Finnick kisses it. "I am too." Finnick tilts his head. "So, what are you working on?"

Cinna offers him the book. He's studying for his finals next week. He needs to know how to do each of the styles since he doesn't know which one he'll be asked to recreate.

Finnick glances through the book and pushes it back towards Cinna. "Good luck!" Right before Finnick leaves, he faces Cinna. "Oh, are you still going to Haymitch's barbeque this weekend?" When Cinna nods, Finnick grins. "Good. We'll be seeing you there!"

As Finnick disappears with Annie, Cinna draws the book back to himself. He catches himself staring at his string-less finger again. Shaking his head, Cinna pushes thoughts about it from his mind.

He needs to focus on studying. But as he studies, Cinna can't help but feel lonely. He didn't think that being string-less at nineteen would bother him so much. Seeing Finnick and Haymitch find their soul mates just hurts because he's realizing he'll never get the same thing that everyone else does.

.

Cinna walks out of the back room to greet his third client of the day. Waiting for him is a thin man with dark brown hair that falls to the ends of his ears. Cinna offers his hand. "Mr. Jackson," he says.

"Please, call me Mitchell," the man responds, shaking Cinna's hand firmly.

Dropping Mitchell's hand, Cinna gestures behind him. "If you will follow me," he requests softly.

He leads Mitchell to the back of the studio and goes about washing his hair. Small talk is made until Cinna takes a towel to dry Mitchell's hair. He shows him to the chair and begins the task of cutting Mitchell's hair much shorter.

Talking to Mitchell is easy, enjoyable. Cinna hasn't felt like that in a long while. He's rather sad to see Mitchell walk out the door, but thankful for the number that rests in his pocket.

.

"What's the point?" Haymitch questions. His voice is low, filled with frustration and a hint of anger. "You said it yourself! You don't have a string."

Cinna throws his hands in the air. "Maybe it's a mistake. Maybe I just can't see it," he replies heatedly. And as he speaks, he realizes getting angry is going to get him nowhere. He sits down, calming himself, and looks up at Haymitch's blazing eyes. "Maybe I just want to feel wanted, Haymitch."

Taking a seat next to Cinna, Haymitch says nothing, unable to find the words that would make it better.

After a while, Cinna breaks the silence. "Look, you don't get it. You have Chaff and Finnick has Annie. I don't. I'm alone. And no string on my finger means that I always will feel like this."

Haymitch gives Cinna a questioning look. "So you're going to go out with this guy and get hurt just to fool yourself into believing that not having a string was a mistake? Definitely the best thing you could do."

Cinna can hear the sarcasm dripping off Haymitch's tone. "You're not my mother. I'm not asking your permission," he responds angrily.

"Don't come crying to me when you get hurt because you're being stupid," Haymitch snaps decisively.

.

"It's glowing," Mitchell says frantically. He's holding his hand above the dinner table. His eyes dart from his hand to Cinna. "What does that mean?"

Cinna smothers a fond smile as he remembers explaining it to Haymitch six years before. "You and your soul mate are ready for a relationship," Cinna replies.

Mitchell turns his dark eyes on Cinna, furrowing his eyebrows. "You're not my soul mate?" he questions.

Cinna holds his hand above the table. He's always been self-conscious of his string-less hand, but he pushes that away. "If I was," he says, "you would be able to see my glowing string."

Mitchell gives him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but I…"

"Go," Cinna orders, tilting his head toward the door. "The love of your life isn't going to wait."

Mitchell throws a few bills on the table and disappears through the door. Cinna watches him, sadness burying itself in his chest. He wanted to believe that it was just a mistake that he doesn't have a string, but he's starting to see that it's not.

He will never get a string.

And maybe, just maybe, he will be okay with that.

.

When Cinna flings himself on Haymitch's couch, he gives Haymitch a warning look. "Don't even say it."

Haymitch puts his hands up in a defensive manner. "I'm not," he assures the dark haired man. "What happened?" he asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

"What do you think?" Cinna responds. "His string started to glow. Knew it was over then."

And for once, Haymitch doesn't gloat about how he was right, and Cinna is thankful.

.

"You look lonely," the girl says.

He falters while cutting through her raven hair. "What makes you say that?" he inquires, turning his attention to his job again.

He sees her glance downward. "You don't have a string on your finger."

Giving her a smile, he questions her. "What's your name?"

"Katniss," she answers.

"Well, Katniss, I'm not lonely. I'm actually quite happy."

She tilts her head slightly. "Mom said she wasn't happy until she met Dad. How can you be happy without someone else?"

He puts down his scissors and turns her around. He meets her stormy eyes. "Are you happy right now?" When she nods, he continues. "That's how I'm happy. I'm happy with my friends and with my life. I don't need a person in my life to complete me."

"Are you really?"

He nods. "Very happy."

The rest of the appointment is done in silence. Cinna can see his words going around in Katniss' head. He is happy, he realizes. And that is the most empowering feeling he's ever had.

**A/n – so many thanks to Jo who beta'd this for me.**


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